


A Second Spark

by BeckNoir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, BAMF Hermione Granger, F/M, Hermione is not impressed, Not Canon Compliant, Sirius black is an idiot, Sirius is his own warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 09:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20132944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeckNoir/pseuds/BeckNoir
Summary: Sirius finds out that Voldemort is hunting the Potters and decides he is absolutely not going to let anything happen to them so long as he still drew breath thank you very much.How was he supposed to know that the only thing that can defeat the Dark Lord was a spitfire of a witch from over 20 years in the future?Well, maybe she could if she would stop throwing curses at his head every 5 seconds and calling him every name under the sun.





	A Second Spark

**Author's Note:**

> So the past few months I've been getting really heavily back into the HP fandom and I've fallen into the rabbit hole of Sirius/Hermione. I wanted to do a bit of a play on the whole 'Hermione goes back in time' thing and this was the result.
> 
> All errors are my own but Harry Potter and anything affiliated with its creative universe are quite obviously not.

1980

Sirius Black knew anger. He knew it intimately, and he often held it close like a child with a favourite toy. It was a common, familiar emotion that burnt red hot with harsh words and harsher fists. He would regretfully admit he had certainly inherited his temper from his gorgon of a mother. It was about the only thing he had learnt from her in the 16 years he had lived under her foul dictatorship, be that for better or worse.

But this....this was different.

This was more than anger, this was fury. This was a roaring and unapologetic frostbite that clamoured to consume every inch of him. It felt like both a raging storm and a desolate vacuum. Like any minute he would explode and birth stars from the chaotic energy currently trapped in the void hovering under his skin. He stared blankly at the severe face of James Potter in front him, knowing that James was still talking but also not able to take in a damn word he was saying. 

Apparently some ridiculous prophecy, no doubt not even worth the parchment it was written on, had made its way back to Mr Tall, Dark and Murderous and now he and his entire fancy Fanclub were searching for the family. 

Voldemort was coming for the Potters, coming to kill their unborn child in some asinine attempt to ensure he could never be defeated and honestly Sirius had never felt more inclined to punch someone in his entire life and hell if that wasn't the statement of the night. 

"Pads, are you even listening to me?"

"Not particularly."

A sharp punch to the arm brought Sirius back to focus with a jump. Sirius looked at his best friend and scowled, he could see James was on the verge of his hysteria and it did not sit well. Crumpled clothes, messy hair and chewed fingernails indicators that James had gone into anxiety overdrive. He probably hadn't slept or eaten properly since he first heard from Dumbledore the disturbing news, which by Sirius reckoning was probably about 2 or 3 days ago. Sirius had been away on a mission for his job as an Auror when James had contacted him through their two-way mirrors to tell him there was something urgent he needed to talk to him about and that he absolutely had to head to their first thing as soon as he got back.

Sirius had done exactly as instructed but was now regretting not stopping off for a bottle or three of firewhiskey.

James had started pacing across the living room, subconsciously ruffling his hair much like he used to do when they were younger, and Sirius silently pondered to himself that it was surprising James hadn't worn holes into the wooden floors of the modest cottage.

"What am I going to do Pads?" James looked at Sirius beseechingly, his usual confidence and bravado no wear to be seen as the gravity of the situation finally began to be more than he could bear. Unshed tears began to appear in the corners of his eyes, held there by only a thin thread of stubbornness. Sirius' body had moved before his brain did, as was often the case in emotional situations, and he enveloped James in a fierce hug.

The two hadn't always had a tactile relationship, James having been raised showered in hugs and casual physical affection whilst for Sirius, it couldn't have been further from the truth. Walburga and Orion Black were not even been in the same hemisphere as 'touchy-feely' when it came to parenting styles. It had taken 6 months or so of Sirius jumping like a spooked kneazle whenever James hugged him, or as he was rather fond of doing lounging on him, for the young wizard to acclimatised and begin to return in kind. It eventually became the foundation for their lifelong bond and cemented them as family, as a pack. This was even truer once they became animagi in their fifth year at Hogwarts.

They stayed there for a few long moments before separating, James furiously scrubbing at his eyes underneath his glasses.

"We'll figure something out mate, everything will be okay."

Sirius could tell James didn't believe him but it didn't matter. Sirius knew if he lost James and Lily...god it didn't bear thinking about.

He vowed to himself then that he would save them, anything else wasn't an option.

\----------------

2005

To the surprise of all, including herself, the normally much more reserved Hermione Granger found herself practically skipping her way out of the Ministry of Magic.

Granted, It was the end of a particularly rough week of work and she absolutely couldn't wait to get back to her apartment to off her shoes, pour herself a large glass of red wine and dunk herself in a ridiculously hot bath for an hour or so. However, what had her particularly excited this Friday evening was the meeting that she had just left.

She was being promoted to head of the Department of Mysteries.

Just before she had been due to leave for the day, considerably grumpier than she was right now, she was pulled into an unexpected meeting with Saul Crocker, her boss and the current department head, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, a dear friend and the current Minister of Magic.

At first, she had panicked. Had she done something wrong? Was she being fired? But then the two quickly explained that after all her diligent work for the last 6 years, they had decided that when Saul retired in a month she would succeed him.

As the youngest department head the Ministry had ever had.

She had spluttered and struggled to find her words, not quite fully processing what they had said. After a quick shake of her head, she had composed her self. She was beyond honoured they wanted her for such a position but was she truly the best candidate? What about Duncan Shafiq, the pureblood wizard that leads the chamber of prophecy? Or maybe even Lyla Smith, the half-blood witch that had been with the department 15+ years?

Kingsley had chuckled and cut off her rambling, knowing full well she was building up to naming everyone staff member in the department before herself. He explained that of the witches and wizards that outranked her in years of service the majority were themselves not far from retirement. The department needed someone that would stick around for a while. Someone that could assist in Kingsley's reforms of the Ministry as a whole.

The rest, he explained, just simply didn't have what they needed. They were either too young, too unmotivated or lacked any and all leadership abilities. Kingsley knew full well that Hermione had a maturity and drive well beyond years, and he had seen her leadership skills first hand during the war. He was in no doubt the only reason Harry and Ron survived for so long whilst they were school was Hermione.

Saul had chimed in then, to her flustered embarrassed, to add that she was the only one he trusted to take over from him and if she didn't take the damn job he would be forced to stay on until she was ready to accept the job and he would have to cancel _so many plans._

She agreed, slightly because even the thought of listening to Saul complaining about losing out on his cruises and holidays every day for the foreseeable future was enough to add a couple of premature grey hairs. The man was not one to be parted from his luxuries and/or downtime without making everyone around him need their own week-long break.

She knew there would be a couple of grumbles about her appointment, mostly from people in other departments that already didn't understand why she was currently in charge of the time room.

Right now though, as she made her way to the apparition point to go home, she didn't give a damn what other people thought. She just got the promotion of her dreams and she finally had a weekend to herself to catch up on all the reading she had fallen behind on.

Thinking back to the war, to the days and nights on the run, to the torture and to all the hardships she endured, she hadn't thought during those times that things would ever really be over. She thought she would be able to move and make something of herself, make a difference in the magical community, and now here she was. One step closer to the dream.

With a pop, she landed in the entrance hall of her apartment building. After collecting her mail and with a nod to the doorman she headed up to her flat.

Not long after she joined the ministry she had been placed on a 6-month interdepartmental task force, tasked with finding out what the top issues were from employees within the ministry and then solving them. Not a particularly fun task by any stretch of the imagination.

One of the big things had been a lack of housing, particularly for young and/or single employees. Numerous properties in magical areas of Britain had been destroyed during the war. Be it for raids to find muggles-borns, attempted battles between the order and the death eaters or simply scare tactics, the number of places available in magical settlements was low. London, of course, had been the worst hit, because it wasn't as if finding somewhere to live there had been particularly easy beforehand was it?

Ministry subsidised blocks of flats had been the answer to that particular issue and had been a good incentive to get a lot of her Hogwarts peers, previously disillusioned with the ministry and reluctant to become another cog in a wheel that certainly hadn't helped them before now, to begin ministry careers.

It had been a saving grace when, not long before her 21st birthday, Hermione had found Ron in bed with another woman, one of Fleur's visiting relatives that was stunningly gorgeous and no doubt a good part Veela.

5 years prior Hermione would have screamed and shouted. She would have cried and flung every curse and hex she knew at the two. Instead, she had stood frozen in the doorway. Gasps and yells from the corridor behind her, Weasleys and extended family alike, went unheard as she stared down at them. The only indicator that she was even affected by what was going on was the raging fury in her eyes.

Still silent and immune to Ron's babbled apologies, she had flicked her wand and with a blast of wild chaos all of her belongings disappeared into her ever-faithful small beaded bag. Turning on her heel she had pushed past the gathering crowd at what was no longer her bedroom door and exited the burrow.

Shouts and pleading had been ignored until Harry caught up with just before she left the wards. It had taken all of her strength not to push him away and bolt to freedom, to safety.

He pulled her into a tight hug and the dam that was holding back all of her emotions threatened to break. She allowed her self the brief comfort of her best friend and brother figure before pulling quickly away.

In her peripheral vision, she could see a shirtless Ron walking through the garden towards them and all she could think of was that she needed to go, somewhere, anywhere, she just needed to leave.

To her faint surprise, Harry placed a gentle kiss to her forehead before pushing her towards the boundary of the wards. She had bolted then, not stopping to look back until she was finally free of the magic that stopped her from apparating. She turned to give the Burrow one final look just as Harry hit Ron with such force that he fell backwards.

She left then to the Forest of Dean, to this day she still wouldn't be able to tell you why she picked there of all places, and after shooting off a quick Patronus to explain to her boss that she wouldn't be in work for a week proceeded to lash out with a ferocity she hadn't seen from herself since the war. It was then, far away from everyone and completely alone, that she finally allowed herself to scream. She shouted and cried and levelled a small chunk of the surrounding forest.

She wasn't entirely sure how long she went on for before exhaustion hit. All she knew was that she woke up the following morning curled up on the dirt feeling significantly better. Clearly, magical tantrums were more cathartic that she had previously realised.

She'd taken the rest of the week to find a new place to live. Word had clearly made it's way to Kingsley by the time she asked to move into one of the ministry flats as he very wisely didn't question why she needed it.

It had taken a while to get adjusted to living by herself for the first time but after a while, she couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Hermione was happy to admit that in hindsight the end of her relationship with Ron had worked out for the best for both of them.

She still had to see him occasionally, at social events and sometimes at work, and although the initial betrayal had hurt her in such a visceral way she had long since lost any resentment she held towards him. They would never be close friends again, the trust would simply never be repaired, but after a lot of work, it was no longer awkward to be around each other.

Once she entered her flat, a pleasantly sized 1 bedroom located on the 4th floor, she felt herself mellow almost immediately. This was her haven and safe space, the one place she would be completely herself without caring what anyone else though.

She pottered around for a little while, eating a microwavable meal and feeding the cat before she began to run her much-anticipated bath and poured herself a large glass of wine. She knew once she got out of the bath she would need to fire off several letters to her friends to let them know she had big news to tell them when they met up for Sunday brunch. But for now....for now, she would let her mind go blank and enjoy the peace she very much deserved.

Life finally felt like it was all going according to plan, and she planned on appreciating every moment of it.


End file.
